


Third one's the charmed

by NatyCeleste



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Bucky Barnes Recovering, Bucky Barnes Remembers, Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Falling In Love, First Kiss, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Friends to Lovers, Hand Jobs, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Torture, Kissing, Literal Sleeping Together, Love, M/M, Making Out, POV Third Person, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Romance, Sexual Tension, Smut, Sweet, Touch-Starved, Touching, Trauma, emotional tension, short and sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-02
Updated: 2020-06-16
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:41:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24501781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NatyCeleste/pseuds/NatyCeleste
Summary: This is a short (hopefully sweet) and pretty simple fic. It's set in an AU where after the events on The winter soldier, Steve managed to find Bucky and convince him to go live with him instead of going rogue. It's been almost a year, and people are starting to get confuse about their relationship.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Comments: 28
Kudos: 159





	1. Chapter 1

The first time the thought even crossed Steve’s mind was one of the most awkward moments he could remember. They were mid-fight with some nameless terrorists, and an explosion had sent the both of them flying back through the air. 

He had landed right on top of his best friend, and pinned him to the ground for a couple of seconds. They hadn't been that close in a long time, if not ever. Their eyes had met just for a brief moment. 

"Ugh sorry man," he had uttered while he got back on his feet. He offered Bucky a hand to get up, mostly out of habit, even though he was well aware he didn't really need it. 

He tried not to think much of it in the moment, quickly returning to the battle in front of them. But later that night, when he was lying in his bed, looking up at the pitch black ceiling, a weird feeling flooded his chest. 

He remembered the way Bucky had looked at him, and he suddenly realized that ever since he had returned, he almost never looked him right in the eye. He didn't know just how much he missed the way they used to communicate with each other with just one look. 

He also remembered quite vividly the warmth of his best friend's chest when he had rested his hand there, pushing himself up and away. He closed his eyes and rubbed his hands together, he could almost feel Bucky's accelerated heartbeat on his palm. 

Steve shook his head, pushing the mere thought about something like that with his friend, and set himself up to fall asleep. 

\---

The second time the idea flooded him came a few months later. The cold of the night was pressing on the windows as he tried to fall asleep again. He could hear Bucky's night terror induced screams down the hall. It had been almost a year since he had returned, and gladly, it didn't happen every night anymore. Some nights the nightmares stayed away long enough for Bucky to be able to rest. And the days after those nights were the best. Mornings in which he talked almost naturally, evenings spent fighting bad guys or training, nights when they would talk loudly at the dinner table, laughing about nonsenses. 

But some days weren't so great. The nightmares seemed to consume Bucky, leaving him with an emptiness nothing would remove. Steve had learned that Bucky didn't want to talk about the night terrors. The mere mention of the subject made him so uncomfortable, Steve had simply stopped asking about them. He just did his best to ignore them whenever they happened, to look away in the morning if Bucky had hurt himself in his sleep, even if that broke his heart. 

But that night was different. He shot up on his bed when he heard his name mingled up in the mess of Bucky's screams, and ran to his bedroom as fast as he could. He didn't stop at the closed door, or when he saw Bucky alone, clearly asleep.

"Buck?" he uttered, making it sound like a question, and his friend's eyes shot open without a second passing. His sleep was so light and fragile. He was a soldier, eternally guarded and alert. It took him a moment to realize that there was no danger, and Steve waited patiently, standing in the middle of the dark room, not really sure of what to do. "You ok?" he asked, breaking the silence. Bucky rubbed his eyes with his right hand and let out a low sigh.

"Yeah, man. Sorry I woke you," he answered. His voice was rougher than usual, and Steve could hear the tone of awkwardness in it. 

"Do you want to talk about it?" he added, although he already knew the answer. Bucky shook his head.

"I'm ok. Just go back to sleep." He nodded heavily and returned to his bedroom closing both doors behind him. He sat down slowly, wondering why the hell he couldn't stop picturing Bucky lying on his bed, with the covers tangled up in his legs, and his hair ruffled by the uneasiness of his sleep. 

He swallowed hard, rubbed his face with both hands and let out a sigh, pushing the thought away as best as he could. _What the heck was going on with him?_

\---

The third time was tainted by the uneasy, untrustworthy calm that comes after the storm. They had battled some aliens, and Bucky had been hurt. Steve had seen him lying on the ground, motionless and pale. He had seen the blood slowly stain the floor beneath his body, and for a long and agonizing moment, he had felt like his own heart was stopping. 

He still had the lingering taste of the fear nesting in the back of his throat, making it really hard to breathe. Even after hours had passed. 

Now he was looking at Bucky safe and sound, sitting on a stretcher as a woman carefully cleaned the wound on his chest. Steve could see the way Bucky had zoned out while she was removing some glass shards from his flesh, and then the way he had returned to be himself when she bandaged him, to politely listen to her instructions and thank her for her work. He had come a long way since he had agreed to move in with him. After all he’d been through, even the thought of him being able to be in the same room with a doctor was simply amazing.

When she was gone, they both stared at the closed door for a little while. Then Steve took the ice pack he had brought and walked towards Bucky to give it to him. 

"You're starting to bruise up on your right shoulder," he said, matter-of-factly.

"I can take the pain." 

"I know. But you don't have to," he came closer and almost shoved the ice pack in his friend's hand, so he took it. 

" _Thanks,_ " he muttered, and even though he had tried to sound sarcastic, Steve knew there was real gratitude in his voice. 

"Are you feeling better? You really had me worried back then for a second." Bucky took a moment to reply, and when he did, he was looking down, as if he was talking to Steve's neck. 

"I'm ok," he made another pause. "Maybe a little worried about the arm. Might not be a hundred percent." Steve made a face.

"Well, a building collapsed on top of you, maybe you can give it a little time, buddy."

Bucky let out a short laugh as he left the ice pack aside and inspected his left hand with his right one. "I think the nerve receptors might be a bit off," he commented, and Steve approached him again, placing his fingers softly on the metal arm. 

"Can you feel this?" he asked. Bucky nodded and shifted his weight on the stretcher. His eyes were still down, fixed on some random point of the room. Steve's fingers moved up the metal arm and rubbed the hard, cold shoulder. Bucky nodded again. 

But Steve felt like he wasn't in control of his hand anymore, as his fingers grazed the point where the cold metal met the warm flesh.

Oh so carefully, and as if they had a mind of their own, the tip of his fingers traveled down the scarred tissue Bucky used to hide so well. He was dead set on avoiding his friend looking at his scars, so maybe that was the second or third time Steve was even allowed to see that one. Bucky closed his eyes and took a broken breath.

"Does this hurt?" Steve questioned almost immediately, but his friend shook his head slowly. "Can you still feel it?" he asked again as his fingers traveled delicately on his friend's deep scars. 

"I can feel it," he let out under his breath, as Steve's fingers moved slowly up his shoulder and continued their journey up the side of his neck. He didn't sound upset or bothered, but Steve wondered what the hell was happening. He didn't even know what he was doing. He had no idea what it meant, or what could happen. All he knew was that he was amazed by the way it felt to touch him, to look at him the way he was finally allowing himself to look at him. He didn't want any of it to stop. 

Steve could see the way Bucky was breathing. Heavily and elaborately. He himself was breathing that way too. 

"Does it... does it bother you?" Steve pressed. His fingers had slowly found their way to his face, and were fixed on the stubble of the side of his jaw, so Bucky shook his head lightly, trying not to scare them away. _God_ , he didn’t want him to stop. 

With the smallest of movements, he turned his head slightly, leaning against Steve's hand, and taking a deep breath. It had been so long, _so long,_ since someone had touched him this way. So gently, so lovingly. He suddenly felt like crying and smiling at the same time. He could almost remember how it felt to be touched like this. To have gentle hands carefully caressing him. And somehow he _knew_ it had never felt like this. So intense, so nerve-racking, so… so absolutely _right_. 

His heart was pounding in his chest when he finally found the guts to open his eyes. Steve was looking at him, he could feel his eyes on his face, even though he was looking away. He swallowed hard and moved too. His right hand crept over the stretcher, reaching slowly for the hand Steve had left resting there. 

Steve's heart skipped a beat when he felt his friend touching him too. The touch was timid and slow, but it was there. Gentle and kind. And then his own fingers reached Bucky's lips, and he parted them as he touched them, ever so gently. 

Bucky's hand was going up his arm, leaving a hot trail on his skin.

 _"Wh_ _at is even happening?"_ Bucky murmured in a shaky voice, much lower and rougher than usual. It didn't sound like a complaint, or even like a real question for all that it mattered. But Steve bit his lip for a second and then spoke again.

"Do you want it to stop?" he asked. He was breathing heavily too, and internally, he couldn't even think about something worse than to stop what was happening right at that moment, but he would. Bet his life, cross his heart, he would absolutely stop if Bucky was not one hundred percent on board. 

And then Bucky looked at him in the eye for the first time in the evening, for the first time in a long time really, and he could see every bit of what was going on in his head. He could see it so clearly he was almost afraid he could be imagining it. There wasn't any doubt, not a trace of fear in those perfectly clear eyes. Just longing, and a bit of anxiety. 

Bucky shook his head one last time, answering the question that had been left floating in the air, and then his hand found its way to Steve's face. He cuddled up his jaw for a brief moment, and then moved it to the back of his head to gently pull his friend towards him. 

"Buck, if you're not sure I-" but then Bucky's lips were pressed against his, and his blood was racing in his veins, and every conscious thought evaporated right out of his head. His friend was way warmer than he would have thought. His lips were softer. His touch on the back of his head was careful, almost delicate. 

He moved, returning the kiss, and he loved the way Bucky's lips seemed to know exactly what he liked. He was sweet but firm in his moves, and he absolutely loved the way his hand was turning slightly rougher, pulling a bit at his hair.

They parted to breathe for a brief second and then went right back at it when they felt like it hadn't been enough. 

Slowly, their hands started pulling at each other to get closer, deepening the kiss. Steve let his hand wander to the back of Bucky's head, and his fingers tangled in his hair. His other hand was down on his waist, grabbing his side for dear life, still careful not to touch his wounds. 

He was afraid it would be too much, that his friend would break or crumble if he asked for too much of him. But Bucky's hands were on his back, and pulling at his white shirt, begging silently for him to get closer, and conjuring all his fears away. 

Bucky wasn't really sure if he wanted to take that stupid useless shirt off or use it to get his partner closer, but after a second he decided both options seemed nice. He'd take whatever he could get, anything he’d be willing to give him. 

When they had to part again, they both felt like their lungs were on fire. Somehow, breathing hadn't been a priority during the last couple of minutes. 

They stayed close to one another, still shifting their bodies constantly to try and get even closer. Their eyes met, and they let out a laugh that was equal parts disbelief and amazement. Bucky spoke first, his voice a bit breathless and uneven. 

"I knew there had to be a way to shut you the hell up," he said jokingly. Steve let out a sigh as his smile widened, responding to one of the few sincere smiles he had seen in Bucky's face since he had returned. He bit his lip as he looked at him for a moment. 

"To be perfectly honest, I think I might be able to get used to it," he replied just before kissing him again. They'd definitely be doing that alot from now on.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't really know why this is here, I just wanted to write it, so I thought I'd share it. There's no Steve in this chapter, so if you're only here for Stucky, you can skip this one (although Bucky does talk about Steve)

When Friday warned him someone was approaching, Tony couldn't have imagined who it was. 

"Give me a visual of the front gate," he replied, a bit absent minded, and had to do a double take of the image that appeared floating beside him. James Barnes was standing at the gate, wearing jeans and a hoodie. He looked calm but a bit nervous. That was a good sign. When he was under someone else's control, he didn't show any emotions at all. Like a robot or an android. Or at least that's what Steve had explained. 

He took a deep breath to avoid acting like his instincts told him to. Steve had come clean about everything several months ago, and asked him to try and understand that James wasn't really responsible for all the things HYDRA had forced him to do. 

Almost a year later, without the heat of the moment clouding his judgment, he could see the logic in that argument. He had read the decades worth of files, detailing just how much they had tortured Steve's friend. They had forced him to walk on broken legs, they had performed surgical procedures without anesthetics -including amputating his arm-, they had starved him for weeks and deprived him of sleep, dislocated his joints and broken his bones on purpose just to see if he could take it, to see if he could heal… they had washed his brain completely and repeatedly, taking away his memories and everything he was. 

Tony had read the transcript of every session too, so he _knew_ just how much Bucky had endured, fought, resisted and begged before going silent, before they had finally broken him. Truth was he couldn't even imagine the pain that man had gone through. So he was giving him a chance. He was really trying to accept him. But that didn't mean that he liked the guy, or that he trusted him. 

After rubbing his fingers together hesitantly, he pressed the holographic button on top of the image and spoke loudly and clearly.

"What the hell are you doing here? Running an errand for Cap?" he asked, voice sharp. Bucky was unaffected by his tone. After all he had done, he didn't expect people to be kind or polite to him. Specially Tony. 

"Steve doesn't know I'm here," he said. "I know it's a long shot, but I was wondering if you could help me with something."

Tony pulled away from the image for a second, hesitant. He played with the screwdriver he was holding. The idea of letting him in didn’t sit well in his stomach, but he couldn’t deny he wanted to know what he wanted. He watched again, as James ran his non robotic hand through his hair and then crossed his arms over his chest, patiently waiting for his verdict. 

After a few seconds, curiosity settled in, and he clenched his jaw for a fraction of a second before pressing the button and speaking again. 

“I’m in the lab,” he said, and slid the other button in the holographic screen to open the gate, right before dismissing the image. He was already starting to regret it.

He pretended to work while his visitor reached him, even though he couldn't think about anything else. The piece of junk that was in front of him was nothing more than that, a piece of junk. 

He heard the footsteps approaching him and spoke without looking up. 

“To what do I owe the… visit,” he said, trying to put up a sarcastic witty front. Truth be told, his hands were shaking and his stomach felt like it was filled with rocks. 

“I want to know if you could make my arm removable,” he answered, straight to the point. There was no reason for dragging it out. He either could or couldn't, would or wouldn't. 

Tony got up and looked at the man in front of him. He had stayed in the doorway of his lab, not entering an inch, and it still felt like he was too close. 

“Why would you want that?” he said, mockingly, and Bucky crossed his arms again, going quiet. “Really, why? You want to be able to fit through tight spaces? Or maybe it's weight is throwing you off on your dance routines.”

Bucky clenched his jaw. It was very clear to him that Tony wanted to provoke him, to see if he could get a reaction out of him. So instead, he decided to tell the truth. Blatant and decisive.

“I want to be able to sleep in the same bed with Steve without him being hurt if I have a nightmare."

His voice bounced around Tony's lab for a moment, while he recovered from the shock. It had taken him completely off guard. He stumbled a bit as he went to get another tool he didn't really need, and then played with it as he spoke, waving it around a bit. 

“Well, mazel tov. I'd say you two deserve each other, but at this point, I don't think that'd be a compliment to either of you."

That was it. He could say all he wanted about him, but about Steve? That was too far. It was clear to Bucky that this whole thing had been a mistake. A huge mistake. Why the hell was he even here. Hadn't he done enough to this man?

“Forget I asked, I'll see myself out,” he said, and spun around to start walking towards the exit. Maybe he could forget this whole thing ever happened. 

Tony played with the tool again for a few seconds, and then cursed under his breath. 

“Wait,” he blurred out, loud enough for Bucky to hear. He stopped walking, so Tony continued. “I don't want him to get hurt either,” he said. The first honest thing he had said in the whole exchange. “Come back here, I'll see what I can do."

Bucky turned around and looked at him for a moment before heading to the lab again. This time he entered the room, and they stared at each other in silence for a long moment. 

“So you and cap are a thing now?” Bucky shrugged. It was a really uncharacteristic move, so his whole body looked stiff while doing it. “You know, I’m really trying here. You could give me a little something.”

Bucky sighed, already tired of all of it. It was so much easier to talk to Steve. He never felt judged or attacked. “I’m not sure," he said, sincerely. They had kissed _once._ Did that make them "a thing"? “I guess not yet, but I want us to be,” he added when he realized that it seemed like he was still holding back. And he did. He wanted to be part of a _thing_ with Steve. He wanted it more than anything. 

“That’s good,” Tony replied, nodding. 

“Thank you,” he murmured in return, and Tony didn’t know if he was talking about what he just said, or about the fact that he was going to try and help.

“Save it for when I actually do something,” he retorted and Bucky clenched his jaw again. "First of all, I need to examine the arm. Take off the hoodie and the gloves and take a seat over there." Tony instructed, referring to a stretcher in a far corner of the lab. He did as he was told, exposing the dark blue t-shirt he was wearing underneath, and most of his prosthetic arm. 

Tony got his tools, setting them on a cart beside Bucky, and he looked away, forcing himself not to flinch. He had his reasons not to be too fond of medical equipment. He repeatedly reminded himself that those weren't really any sort of medical tools. They were just common tools. But when you were part metal, both categories tended to blend together in your mind. 

Before doing anything, Tony took a pencil and hit the metal hand a few times. "Can you feel it?" he asked.

"Yes, I can feel anything that happens to it," Bucky replied. 

"Really? Without looking, what fingers am I touching?" Bucky was so fed up, but he looked away and answered as Tony checked.

"Middle one. Pinky. Thumb. That's not a finger, that's my elbow."

"Ok, ok, just making sure. Do you have tactile sensors?" Bucky frowned. "Work with me, would ya? When you touch something, do you know _how_ it feels? If it's soft, if it's rough…" he explained.

"Yeah, I can do that too," Bucky was internally begging for him not to test that. He really wasn't in the mood for Tony making him touch teddy bears and sandpaper. 

"Well, that may be a problem. Friday, mix some pain killers for later. We're gonna need five times the dosage indicated for an adult male." 

"No, I don't want them."

"Friday, put a pin on that. I don't think you understand, tough boy. If we do this, it's gonna hurt. Like pulling-off-your-original-arm hurt. There's artificial nerve endings and neural receptors all over this thing." 

"I don't care," he replied, voice steady and strong. He sounded angry. And then he looked at Tony, and he sighed before adjusting his tone to continue. "They made me addicted to painkillers at one point," he thought about the early stages of HYDRA's procedures, the way they'd burn him, cut him, break his ribs, his fingers or his toes and then drug him to make the pain go away for a little while, how the overwhelming power of the addiction had made it easier for them to break him, to gain control over his brain. He didn't want that to happen again. Ever. 

He pushed the memory away to be able to speak, but his voice was still a bit choked up. "I'm clean now. I don't want to go through that again," there was fear in his eyes, but he tried to hide it as well as he could. "I can handle the pain," he added.

Simple, clear. Tony wondered why that wasn't in his files, but he didn't say anything about it. And although he did ponder for a second on what else could they have left out of the papers, he cleared his throat again and continued. 

"Well, suit yourself. Friday, cancel the last order," his sarcastic tone was crumbling to pieces, but he didn't want James to think he was sorry for him. He wasn't, of course he wasn't. 

Bucky watched Tony walk around for a bit, and search some drawers. When he came back, he handed him a piece of wood about the size of a wallet. 

"Here. You can bite down on this when we get started, it's soft enough not to break." Bucky looked at it, a bit shocked. 

"Thank you," he said again, softly and under his breath. 

"I wouldn't know what to do if you'd swallowed your tongue."

Was that a joke? It felt like a joke. _God,_ this man was confusing as hell. Bucky thought about how used he was to seeing everything as good or bad. He came from a time when everything was taught as black or white, and HYDRA had done nothing but reinforce that idea, just completely backwards. 

Tony, on the other hand, was gray, or at least it felt like it. Not completely good, not really bad. But he needed to get used to that. Everything was gray these days. Even him. Or at least he hoped so. 

He looked at Tony and realized they had been quiet for too long. Maybe he had zoned out, he still did that sometimes. 

When he made eye contact, Tony started talking again. "I actually have a question before we start. And _please_ don't feel obliged to answer based on the fact that I'm basically about to torture you." Bucky nodded once, waiting to see what he had to say. "You’re a soldier, right?” Bucky frowned. Was he? He used to be an assassin, but Tony couldn't have been asking about that. 

“I used to be a sergeant,” he offered, not sure if that was what he was talking about. 

“Great. So tell me one thing. How could a _sergeant_ send his friend to face the consequences of his actions?” The question took Bucky completely by surprise. He knew Tony resented him, and by all means he had his reasons. But he didn’t expect that to be one of them. He fell silent, so Tony continued. "You sent Cap to do your dirty work, to tell me what you had done. You didn’t have the balls to face me yourself, you never even said that you were sorry." 

A bulge formed on Bucky's throat, and he felt as if it was coated in sand. 

"Would it have made a difference?" he asked, voice quiet.

"Well," Tony stumbled in his words. "It might have," he blurred out, and then the silence took over again for a moment. The unspoken question was eating Tony alive, and he tried so hard to hold it back. _"Do you even remember them?"_ he let out, and suddenly it wasn’t a rant anymore. This was serious, the heartbreaking question of a man that finally had the chance to face his parent’s murderer. Bucky let a moment pass in silence, measuring his words carefully. 

"I remember _all of them,_ " he whispered. His voice sounded rough, as if the weight of that truth had settled on those words. He went quiet for another second, and then continued. "And for what is worth, not a day goes by when I don’t think about what I did, or that I don’t regret it," he had spoken with his eyes glued to the floor, it was easier that way, but he made an effort to look up at Tony, and face his judgement. "I truly am sorry," he said, voice as steady as he could manage to keep it. Stark let a long moment pass in silence, and then cleared his throat and started moving again. 

"Well, that wasn't so hard, was it?" again with the almost playful tone. Bucky was trying to keep up, but this man felt uncertain to him, like he was on a roller-coaster, trying to figure out how he was supposed to react. 

"By the way," he added, when he remembered something else. "Steve didn't tell me he was going to come talk to you. I found out after he had already done it," he made a pause. "Back then I thought it was because his honor was on the line. That since you were his friend, he needed to be the one to tell you. But now I think he was probably trying to protect us from each other," a little smile played on the corner of his lips, but it didn't settle in before disappearing. "I wasn't exactly myself back then," he confessed, as if Tony didn't already know. He remembered the days when he was trying so hard to hold on to the few memories Steve had triggered. He was holding on for dear life to his name, to the feelings they had suppressed for so long, to the idea that he was a person, with an identity and a past. He remembered the way the memories came back slowly, as if they were returned to him by the waves of an ocean, that brought everything to the surface sooner or later. He remembered the blanks, and the rough spots, and Steve giving him time and support, talking to him as if he wasn't the monster he was, all the while knowing all that he had done. No pressure, no judgment, just understanding and patience. It had been so mind-blowingly easy to fall in love with him. Completely inevitable. God only knew how many times he had repeated to himself that Steve saw him as a friend, how hard he had tried to deny it, for so long and so stubbornly. 

"And you are now? Yourself?" the question was real, so he did his best to answer truthfully.

"I don't know. I'm not quite who I used to be anymore, but I'm not what they had turned me into, either. I'm something else," he made a pause and he looked up again. "I'm trying," he added, as sincerely as he could. Because it was nothing more than the truth. 

Tony nodded, but said nothing. 

"That's the other reason I came to you. The reason I came to _you_ and not somebody else," Bucky continued, voice low but decisive. "I was thinking you could add some sort of safeguard to it. Something that disables me or it," he pointed at his metal arm with his eyes. "I _am_ trying. With everything I have. But they've broken me before. And I really tried back then too," he took a second and inhaled deeply. "If they get to me again, I don't want to be a liability. I don't want to turn against any of you again." There were tears in his eyes. This was his absolute worst fear, and it was painful to say it out loud. It was torture to force himself to even think about it, but he swallowed hard and pushed the words out against their will. "I don't ever want to be turned against _him_ again," he finished. 

Tony stared at him for almost a full minute before finally nodding. For once, he was speechless. 

The rest of the analysis took about an hour. The arm was made of titanium, with circuits that were way beyond anything they could've made back then. Bucky explained that they used to upgrade it from time to time, at least the insides, and he couldn't help to flinch at the idea. The question shot out of his mouth before he could even think it wasn't really appropriate. 

"Is that when they'd give you the painkillers?" Bucky looked at him for a few seconds. He felt like Tony was crossing the line, being too intrusive but he tried his best not to get defensive about it. 

"No," he replied, and then looked away. With the look he had given him, Tony knew better than to pressure him into keep talking. And now that he thought about it, maybe he was better off not knowing.


	3. Chapter 3

Bucky threw his keys on the small table Steve kept by the door of his apartment and closed the door behind him. His whole body was still numb and knotted from trying to ignore the pain of Tony working on his arm. Luckily, the nerve endings were located only in the outer layer of metal, and some of the main internal parts, but not everywhere. Even more luckily, Tony had found the cables that connected to the nerves and blocked them about half way of the procedure. 

Still, the stress, along with the insistent pulling and pushing of Tony into his arm had taken a toll on his mind and his body. He had not been gentle, and now his shoulder felt like it was on fire.

"I'm here," he said loud enough for Steve to hear him from anywhere in the apartment, but he understood pretty quickly that he wasn't there. It was already dark, but still pretty early. He sighed, rubbed his eyes with his right hand, and headed for the kitchen. He couldn't move his left arm. Well, he _could_ but he wasn't supposed to. Tony had recommended that, based on the fact that his shoulder -that place where flesh and metal met- felt like it could be torn apart at any moment, by the slightless of movements. 

Without turning on any of the lights -one of the advantages of the serum was that he could see pretty well in the darkness-, he reached the fridge and gulped an entire bottle of water. His mouth felt like it was made of sandpaper on the inside. 

He wasn't hungry, but he knew he needed to eat something, so he took a couple of plums and went straight to his bedroom. He ate while walking, and then he carefully lay down on his bed, trying not to hurt himself. He'd be alright in no time. His healing factor would kick in soon enough, and he'd wake up like nothing happened. But right now he felt like shit, and he wished Steve was there with him. 

\---

"Morning," Steve said when Bucky entered the kitchen. He was eating cereal while reading the box, but he left it on the table as soon as he saw his friend. Was he his friend? Well of course he was, but was he _only_ his friend? They hadn't talked about what happened in the doctor's office, but nothing that intense could be forgotten like it was nothing, right? It _had_ to mean something. 

Bucky replied with a stern nod and went for the fridge again. This time, he took a glass and poured some milk without saying anything. He leaned back on the counter and drank it slowly, all the while staring at Steve, thinking about how to start a conversation. "You alright?" Steve asked, but Bucky had already made up his mind on what he was going to say. 

"I went to see Tony Stark yesterday," he said, as if it was an answer to his question. "Don't worry, everything's alright," he added when he saw the flash of fear in Steve's eyes. "I just needed to ask him for something. He was actually really helpful." 

Fear was replaced by curiosity pretty fast. The fact that Bucky hadn't come to him for help stung a little, but he ignored the feeling as best as he could. He went quiet. He really wanted to ask, but he didn't know if he should. Would it be intruding? A couple of seconds passed in silence and then his need to know won the race. "Are you OK?" Bucky nodded solemnly. "Can I know what it was that you needed?" 

Instead of answering, Bucky looked him in the eyes for a moment, and then, really slowly, he put down the glass in the counter behind him and carefully took off his t-shirt, trying not to move his left shoulder. He knew the scars hadn't changed, but Steve's eyes widened anyway. 

_I'm gonna kill Tony,_ he thought. The bruises were on and all around his scar, making Steve's throat swell up. "What the hell happened?" he asked between his teeth, and Bucky looked down at himself. 

"Oh," he let out. "Collateral damage I guess. Don't worry about it. Look," he said, and pressed his finger to the little removable piece of metal Tony had put in his arm. 

He pressed the little button inside, and a mechanical sound came from the arm, along with what sounded like air escaping a flat tire. With a turn of it, the sensitivity was gone. It felt like someone had anesthetized it. Then a bit of pulling -which hurt his shoulder like hell- and the arm was off. He set it down in front of himself and looked at it. Resting on the counter it looked like it was some weird twisted decoration choice. 

Steve was simply baffled. His brow was down, his eyes were curious, his mouth had been left hanging open. 

"Why would you do that?" he asked, voice barely above a whisper. Bucky swallowed, suddenly embarrassed about his motivations. He now realized the reason why it had been so easy to tell the truth to Tony about this particular issue: he had no concerns about him, no emotional investment in his reaction. With Steve, on the other hand, it was quite the opposite. He wasn't sure if the kiss they'd sheared meant the same to Steve as it did for him, but he really didn't want to screw things up before they could even begin, so he cleared his throat, and spoke his lie as convincingly as he could.

"I don't want to hurt myself in my sleep anymore." 

Steve looked disappointed at him, and he really was. He thought they were past the days when Bucky used to lie to him. 

"Buck, come on man, we both know that's not true," Bucky looked away for a second. The fear of what Steve might think of him started nibbling at his brain, _he_ knew he was nowhere near good enough for Steve, but did Steve know that? He thought about the possibility of him laughing at his reasons -like he could ever be that soulless- and then his eyes were filled with tears. The silence lingered for a while between them, but he didn't feel more pressure than Steve's eyes on him. _I wanted to be less of a monster for you,_ he thought, but he didn't let the words slip from his lips. They were too much. 

"I don't want to hurt you," he confessed quietly instead, with a broken whisper, and Steve got up from his seat so fast he almost knocked the chair back.

"Hey…" he murmured as he reached him, putting his hands on both sides of his face. "You didn't have to do that, I knew you weren't going to hurt me." 

Bucky's heart was racing. Steve's sudden proximity was making him feel dizzy, but his words weren't true. "I _have_ hurt you. I tried to kill you," that fact would hunt him forever, and Steve knew that by the way his voice had shivered. _"I almost did,"_ he added, terrified of himself and of what he had done. "If I ever try something like that again…" he trailed off when he noticed he was about to say that he would rather die, "I needed to make sure that you'd be able to stop me," he added instead. 

"Buck, that wasn't you. The things you did back then, you were under their control, you had no choice." 

"I know," he replied, faked certainty filling his voice. Steve's hands were still on his face, so he took one of them and kissed it softly before placing it in his own chest and pressing it with his only hand. "But I did it," he added in a bitter whisper. The undeniability of that small statement broke Steve's heart. There was nothing more that he could say or do that would relieve him from that burden. 

"But you hurt yourself," he said instead, brushing light fingers on Bucky's bruises. His touch felt so gentle, so unbelievably soft. Bucky could hardly believe that after everything he had gone through, he was now in the receiving end of something like that. 

"I can handle it." He said, his voice calm and steady.

" _Oh, trust me, I know_. But that doesn't mean I have to like it." Bucky smiled at him for a second, but then his expression was serious again. He wanted to say that it was really not that bad, that it didn't hurt, but he didn't want to lie again, and Steve was so close, and his hands felt so nice being on him, that he just let him continue without complaint.

"I just needed some peace of mind," he explained. 

"Well, you could've told me," Steve said after a moment. "I would've gone with you." Bucky couldn't help but smile a little at that, but Steve sighed and shook his head. He knew Bucky was as stubborn as they'd come. Maybe almost as much as himself. If he wanted to do something, he would, it didn't matter if Steve offered something else or a couple thousands logical arguments as to why it was the stupidest decision ever. 

So he decided to let go of it and reached for the fridge, to give Bucky a pack of ice. He was starting to get the feeling that that was kinda like a pattern for the last few months: Bucky got hurt, he gave him ice. He just wished he could provide something else to ease the pain, but he knew Bucky would never accept any sort of pain pills. Nothing that had "medicine" in its name, even if it was homeopathic. 

After the initial distrust and confusion of the first couple of weeks Bucky had lived with him, and long before he was able to sleep a full four hours, they had spent countless nights talking endlessly. Bucky had told him about most of his time in HYDRA. He had talked about the torture, the addiction, the loneliness and the dispear. It was like he needed to get it all out of his chest. 

They had gone through the files of his missions page by page, line by line, giving names to the faces he could see in his nightmares. The reports helped him remember. Steve had argued that he didn't need to do that, but Bucky had said that he needed to remember every one of the people he had hurt, in order to honor them properly. They deserved every ounce of his pain and his regret. 

But with the passage of time, he talked less and less about it. Steve had assumed he was trying to leave it behind, but the truth was he didn't like seeing the pain in Steve's eyes when he'd accidentally share too many details about something. He needed to know, yes. Bucky wanted to tell him the truth about what he had done, to let him know exactly what kind of monster he had become, each and every one of the things he regretted. Because it was Steve. His best friend. The only person who really knew him. The only person that he cared to be known by. And he _had_ to know so that he could choose to stand by him truthfully and sincerely… but the pain was so tangible in his eyes every time he shared something too morbid or hurtful, that Bucky had resigned to tell him about the torture filled years. "Just the missions", he had promised himself from that point on. 

The ice sent shivers down Bucky's spine, pulling him away from his thoughts. He didn't really like it, but it did kinda help with the pain. "Thanks," he said. 

"Whatever you need," Steve replied, and Bucky's mind went down spiraling with the possibilities. _A hug_ , he thought. _A kiss,_ he hoped. _Everything,_ his body suggested. 

He cleared his throat and gestured at his arm, which still rested on the counter. "Could you give me a hand?" he asked, and realized that he had made an unintentional bad joke when Steve let out an amused sound. It was simply amazing for him to see Steve laugh or smile. It always had been. He used to love being able to make him laugh out loud when they were kids, and he was having a particularly bad day. He remembered the weeks after Steve's dad had passed away, how he'd stay over in his house some nights, and Bucky talked about any stupid thing he could conjure just to try and get his mind off of the pain and sorrow. _God_ , they were so young. It felt like a couple of lifetimes ago… maybe it actually was. And that still hadn't changed. Steve's laugh was to that day the best sound he could think about. 

He watched him as he lifted the arm, and then carefully held it up close to his shoulder. 

When he finished putting his arm back on, Bucky instantly regained control of it. Sensitivity filled his artificial limb as if it was real, and he noticed his hand was resting on Steve's hip. He resisted the urge to run it up his body, but he didn't pull away either. The smile hadn't faded when he looked Steve in the eye. 

"You know you're my favorite person in the whole world, right?" Bucky said quietly, not being able to ignore everything he was feeling. Steve's smile grew bigger at the words.

"That's pretty lucky, cuz you're mine too," he said right back, and then Bucky was smiling too. How amazing was it that he just said that to _him_? It made him feel like his chest was about to explode.

As the seconds passed, their smiles faded from their mouths, but not from their eyes. They were still close enough that they could feel each other's breaths, and Steve slowly leaned closer and lightly brushed his lips to Bucky's. Almost immediately, his metal hand was closing on Steve's clothes, grabbing a fistful of the fabric. He was wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt, probably ready to go do some workout, and as his lips moved along Steve's, Bucky could think of a million ways they could workout at home. 

Steve was trying so hard again not to cross any lines, because Bucky was hurt, and anything he did could make it worse, but Bucky couldn't care less about his own shoulder, or the fact that he shouldn't be moving his arm. To hell with it, he didn't even register that it was supposed to hurt when he ran his mechanic arm up Steve's back and pressed gently, giving him a hint that he was way too far from him. Every inch between them was hell. 

Steve's self control was gone and forgotten the second he took a small step forward and their bodies came into contact. _"God,"_ they both thought simultaneously and had to break the kiss just to survive the intensity of it all. 

Bucky looked up at the ceiling leaving his neck exposed, and Steve didn't waste the opportunity to see what it tasted like. The stubble on the base of his jaw felt like heaven. Rough and raspy, it made him know that the whole thing was real. He was actually kissing Bucky's neck, and his hand was tangled in his hair, on the opposite side of his head. He could hardly believe it. 

Bucky was struggling to find air in the room. Everything felt like it was heated beyond reason, and he couldn't understand why it felt so goddamn good. He was already shirtless, and the hand Steve had in his back was practically burning his skin, but he wanted more. He wanted this fire to consume every single part of him. He went back to Steve's lips as his hands searched for the ending of his white t-shirt and pulled at it to be able to snuck underneath it. 

Steve let out a moan in response to the feeling of Bucky's hands on his skin, and moved even closer, pinning him against the counter. He needed some kind of relief. Bucky let out a growl when he felt Steve's erection pressing against his own and-

 _"Guys! We need you in location 7! This is getting out of hand!"_ Natasha's loud voice over the intercom's speakers made both of them jump a little and breathe out a complaint. 

They went completely still for a moment, trying so hard to just ignore the whole thing, trying not to feel like they were failing their friends if they just pretended they hadn't heard it. Why the fuck couldn't that threat just wait a couple of hours? They tried, but it was too late. The moment was already over. 

They looked at each other for a second and then let out a frustrated laugh. Steve willed himself to separate from Bucky's body, and take his hands off of him. " _Fuck,"_ he let out under his breath. 

"Nah, maybe later," Bucky replied jokingly as he removed himself from where he was almost sitting against the counter and touching his lips in a way that made Steve think that they were itching for more. 

Steve rolled his eyes at the joke, but Bucky ignored him. "I'll go get changed," he informed, while heading to his room, but Steve frowned, his head was starting to function again. 

"Wait. Maybe you should sit this one out. Your arm-" his protest was cut short by Bucky.

"Come on, man, you know me better than that."

"I'm serious, you could get hurt," he raised his voice when Bucky ignored him and just kept walking.

"OK, _sure_ , I'll stay here and watch TV until you get back," he replied sarcastically just before closing his door behind him. Steve knew arguing was a lost cause. 

\---

When they got back, it was already night outside. They had politely refused pointless beers with the others. Bucky never stayed for those, in an effort to not intrude on an already established team. He was fairly close to Natasha, and got along just fine with Clint and Bruce, but things were always rough with Tony. They had fought alongside each other lots of times, but never really spent time talking or just hanging out. In fact, they had never exchanged more than two words in a row until the day before. But today, although he thought Tony might have accepted him, there was another reason he wouldn't stay. He couldn't think about anything else other than the man who was standing right beside him. 

The adrenaline of the battle was still coursing through their veins when they closed the door behind themselves, and Bucky couldn't even think straight anymore. Pun intended. 

Steve was about to turn the lights on when he noticed the way Bucky was looking at him. He had turned around and was staring at him so intensely and seriously… it made him hard just to see the wanting in his eyes, but he cleared his throat and forced himself to calm the fuck down. He was probably just imagining it.

"You want some food?" Steve asked, willing his voice not to give him away.

"Not really. Do you?" he shook his head. "Do you need to get some rest?" Bucky added, trying not to sound like the pervert he was feeling like.

"No," Steve answered simply. He really didn't, sleep was easily the last thing on his mind right at that moment.

"Good. Where were we then?" Bucky replied as he unraveled the small distance between them. He didn't stop until their lips were together again. God, it felt like ages had passed since that morning. 

Steve's mind could only conjure the word _finally,_ as he returned the kiss. It was like breathing again after being desperate for air for far too long. He heard Bucky's gun holsters hit the floor, and noticed he was still holding his shield, so he let it go to be able to hold Bucky closer. He reached for his face, but his gloves were on the way, so he pulled away and looked him in the eyes as he took them off. Bucky got the hint and did the same with his. They had been fighting side by side all day, chasing bad guys and jumping off rooftops, and their heartbeats hadn't felt so erratic as they did right at that moment. 

They took off the top parts of their own suits too, knowing it was way easier to do that when you knew how they worked, and stripped to the clothes they always wore underneath. Steve had his white sleeveless t-shirt, and Bucky his black one with short sleeves. The second that those parts of their suits were on the floor, Steve was back to kissing Bucky. He needed to feel his tongue again, brushing his as they both tried to ignore the need for air. 

Taking advantage of the lack of gloves, Steve's hands found their way to Bucky's back, pulling his shirt up to be able to feel his skin. He felt unbelievably hot, as if he was running a fever, but Steve knew that wasn't the case. 

Bucky's hands were on Steve's abs right then, and sliding up his chest. He could feel his heartbeat going crazy, and his shallow breathing, that only got worse with every moment that passed. For the first time in his life he was absolutely happy to have the metal arm, in fact, even two hands weren't enough. He wanted to touch Steve _everywhere_ and didn't seem able to settle for one or two places at a time.

Bucky took a few steps forward, guiding Steve with him, but he didn't stop when the blonde felt the wall at his back. Instead, he pressed himself to him, pinning him against it and ripping a moan from his chest. 

Now, as Bucky kissed his neck the same way he had done to him earlier, Steve could feel every inch of his body pressed to his own. He was fairly sure that the hardness in his pants wasn't a gun, and was glad to know he wasn't the only one that felt rock solid after just a few minutes. He moved his hips temptably, mostly out of instinct, just to feel him, and Bucky let out a low raspy growl and stopped what he was doing to Steve's neck to hide his face on his shoulder, _"My fucking God, Stevie,"_ he managed to say before imitating the movement, pushing himself against him once more. It felt like heaven, so he did it again. He stopped when Steve's moan was too much for him to handle. If he kept making those sounds, Bucky wouldn't last five minutes. 

"No, no. Keep going," Steve asked breathlessly, and Bucky bit his lip and did it again. And again. He wanted to hear him scream his name, but he tried to calm down. 

He felt like Steve deserved better. Of course he did. He deserved someone to woo him, and whisper sweet nothings in his ear. Someone who would kiss him slowly and tenderly, someone who would take his time and strip him from head to toe. 

He wanted to be that someone. Almost more than anything. But the second he had touched him his mind had started spinning out of control. Steve felt like a wildfire and a safehome at the same time. He was a burning bright light in the middle of the darkness, and Bucky couldn't even look at him for very long. He was so beautiful, so so beautiful. Blindingly gorgeous. 

His instincts had taken over so fast, that before he knew it, his metal hand had punched a hole in the wall, and he was using it as a grabbing point to push himself against Steve harder. He hadn't seemed to notice, even though the hole was right beside his head. 

Steve lowered his face, that he had kept looking up at the ceiling for a while, and kissed Bucky again. The kiss was sloppy and messy, but it felt amazing just the same. He wasn't used to kissing people with facial hair, but Bucky's beard felt soft and welcoming. 

It was probably the most amazing kiss ever, but suddenly, it wasn't enough anymore. He needed more. Steve's hands were trembling when he slid them between their bodies to unbuckle Bucky's belt. "Is this ok?" he asked quietly, breaking the short phrase to swallow. Their breaths were elaborate and heavy.

 _"Hell yeah,"_ was the answer he got, and a bit of his nervousness dissipated. He was so afraid Bucky would back out any minute, tell him that this whole thing was a mistake, or that he wasn't really ready. He would stop, _of course_ he would stop. Without a word and with no hesitation. But he felt like it might kill him to do so. And then Bucky's hands were unbuttoning his pants too, and all his thoughts scattered. 

Bucky's right hand was warm when it slipped between his pants and his underwear, grabbing him with no hesitation whatsoever and reaping a raw moan out of the center of his chest. Bucky bit his neck while he moved his hand from base to tip of Steve's already hard bulge, through the fabric of his boxers. _"Fuck, Buck,"_ Steve let out in a broken moan, and Bucky pulled back his head a little to be able to look at him. With no further warning, and with one swift movement Bucky had removed the fabric, and was touching him directly, gripping him tightly. Steve felt like he would pass out any moment, just by the intensity of how everything felt. He let his head fall back and hit the wall while a long moan escaped his lips. He was so fucked. He wouldn't be able to live without this from now on. 

Bucky moved his hand tentatively, and Steve covered his face with his hands for a second before running his fingers through his hair. His eyes were tightly closed, his jaw seemed completely locked. It would have been so easy to just lose himself in the way Bucky was touching him, to just let go and enjoy it… but he knew Bucky wasn't getting anything, and he couldn't be OK with that. 

_"Wait, wait,"_ he whispered, and Bucky's hand froze immediately. To watch him being touched, _to touch him_ , was absolutely out of this world, but maybe he wasn't comfortable, maybe he didn't like it. No, to hell with that, he wouldn't have been moaning like he had if he didn't like it. That wasn't the problem. 

Bucky looked at him until he seemed to be able to think properly, his eyes slowly regaining some of their usual focus. He watched him as he got his hands back to Bucky's pants almost desperately, and finished unbuttoning them. "Together," he added in a low voice while looking Bucky right in the eye and sliding a hand down the front of his pants. 

"OK," he whispered in return while nodding, not being able to say more than a word or two at a time now that Steve had him in his hand. "Together," he added. He almost let out a sigh of relief when Steve finally freed him from the fabric. The change from the tight restraint to his warm hand felt fucking amazing, like nothing else. And then he moved, and he had to hide his face on Steve's shoulder just so he wouldn't burst into flames. His metal hand was now on Steve's back, grabbing a fistful of his shirt. Holding on for dear life, because his head wouldn't stop spinning. 

At first, they touched each other at the same time, neither of them had ever done something like that. But as the seconds passed, they got closer and closer to each other, until their erections were suddenly side by side, rubbing to one another while the other one's hand rubbed the other side. The feeling of the heat and softness of each other made them moan out loud… but the movements were erratic, inexperienced. 

Bucky stopped for a second, completely breathless and whispered _"Here,"_ offering his hand for Steve to intertwine their fingers. They did, and went right back to moving, now a lot more coordinated. Having their hands together like that while going from base to tip of each other's side by side erections, felt like nothing they'd experienced before. 

Not being able to restrain himself, Bucky ripped off Steve's shirt with his prosthetic hand, and then kissed his neck thoroughly, being a bit rougher that he had intended. Who the hell cared if he could barely breathe? It was worth it just to have the taste of his skin in his mouth again. 

_"Buck…"_ Steve moaned. Their hands were going faster and faster, completely coordinated now. And his name coming out of Steve's mouth like that threw Bucky over the edge.

 _"Steve, I'm-"_ he said as the burning pleasure built up in his lower half and spread rapidly across his entire body, making him move into Steve's hand by pure instinct. He was coming so hard he couldn't even think, even his fucking eyes were going blurry by the mere force of it, but somewhere in the back of his head he registered that their hands had parted. It didn't matter, his own hand kept moving anyway, taking Steve with him. 

_"Buck!"_ he let out loudly and bit his lip just as Bucky felt his hot relief in his hand. Steve coming for him was easily the hottest thing he had seen in his entire life. He doubted it could ever be topped. 

He slowed down gradually, giving him time to enjoy it, and then he went completely still, enjoying Steve's expression, taking it in. 

A couple of seconds later, they were both unsuccessfully trying to get their breathing under control. 

"My fucking _god,_ " Bucky let out under his breath, and forced himself to move. He noticed his metal hand was still holding Steve's torned t-shirt, and used it to clean the stains as well as he could with numb muscles and shivers going down his back. 

"Is that my t-shirt?" Steve asked, trying to remember if he had taken it off himself. He didn't. Bucky smiled guiltily.

"I guess it _used to be,"_ he said. "Sorry about that," he took a step back as he pulled his underwear back up, and made a face. "And about that," he added, gesturing to the hole in the wall with his hand. 

Steve turned around confused while pulling up his pants, to see what the hell he was talking about, and let out a silent laugh when he saw it. "I guess I won't be getting my deposit back," he said jokingly. 

"Worth it?" Bucky asked as he walked back to sit in one of the kitchen stools. He looked at Steve again, not hiding one bit of how much he loved seeing him like that. He had leaned against the wall again, with one leg straight and the other one flexed, resting his foot on the wall behind him.

"No question about it," he breathed out, and Bucky smiled again. He couldn't bring himself to believe what just happened. 

"Maybe we should get some rest," said Steve slowly, his muscles finally relaxing after spending all day tensed up. He couldn't even imagine how tired Bucky must've been.

"That's probably a good idea," he replied, starting to feel the pain in his shoulder again. His back felt like it was burning. Probably due to the car someone had thrown at him earlier. He could still feel the spot where it had hit him, right between his shoulder blades. 

"We could… you know, lay down together?" The tone Bucky used made the sentence sound like a question.

"I think I might like that. Your place or mine?" 

When they were in Steve's bedroom, stripping down to their underwear nonchalantly across from each other on either side of the bed, Bucky was glad he had the possibility of taking the arm off. He was just about to do it, but then he stopped, realizing something. 

"Hey, come here a second. You do it," he said, and Steve had to look up to see what he was talking about. He immediately frowned.

"Just leave it on," he replied, but Bucky was having none of it.

"Come on, man, I need you to know how to take it off in case I… In case I fall asleep with it still on," that last part was clearly a lie. Steve knew it, and Bucky knew that he did, so he sighed and added "I just want to keep you as safe as I can, ok? _Please?"_ Steve didn't think it was necessary, but he let him have it anyway. The truth was that he could see how important it was for him. So he slowly approached him rounding the bed, and let him show him how to do it. 

Bucky put his arm up to reveal the little removable square. "Press your finger right here," he instructed.

"Any finger?" Bucky nodded, so Steve did as he was told, and the small piece of metal slid up.

"Now press the button," the sounds let them know that the arm was ready to be pulled off. "Now put a hand here," he guided one of Steve's hands to his shoulder "and grab it just above the elbow. That's good. Now twist it, up side to you," he waited for a second and then added "You'll need to use a bit more force than that." 

"Wouldn't it hurt?" Bucky smiled and leaned forward to plant a small kiss on his lips

"Quit being a fucking coward," he said as a joke, breaking a little of the tension Steve felt building up in his chest. He rolled his eyes and twisted a bit more roughly. A small click let them know it was enough. "That's it, perfect. Now pull away." He did, and the arm came right off. Steve felt really uneasy holding it, like he would drop it or break it without meaning to, and he had to remind himself that dropping it wouldn't even make a dent in it. Either way, he left it on the dresser carefully. 

When he turned back to Bucky, he was smiling at him "Thank you for that," he said, and kissed him again. This time the kiss felt a bit more grounded, it tasted sweeter.

"Any time," Steve replied.

"Is it weird? Seeing me like this?" Bucky asked quietly. Steve shrugged. 

"It's just you," he said simply, and went to the other side of the bed to lay down. "I mean, you were always a bit weird" he added, and Bucky laughed.

"Punk" he replied while taking his place beside him in bed and -not so subtlety- hitting him playfully with his elbow. 

"I kinda have a question about it, though." Bucky looked at him, waiting for him to put it in words. "Isn't it a bit too easy to take it off? You just press a couple of things and that's it. If someone finds out, you could be vulnerable."

"The first thing that you pressed is a fingerprint scanner," he answered, putting his arm under his head. "It only opens up if it recognizes my fingerprints, yours or Tony's." 

"Why ours?" Steve inquired, referring to him and Tony. Bucky finished tucking in before answering.

"Well, I wanted to take it off sometimes, so that's why mine are there." Steve frowned. Bucky knew that that hadn't been his question. He was withholding information so he didn't have to lie, just like he used to do when they were kids. But Steve wanted to know.

"And mine?" he pressed. 

"You know why," he replied, and turned off the light.

"Not really," Steve retorted, and in the darkness, it was easier for Bucky to continue.

"You do. I told you this morning. It's because I wanted to make sure that you'd have the upper hand if we ever had to go toe to toe again. Because I know you'd be right if you needed or wanted to incapacitate me," he went silent for a second and then turned to Steve, to add the part that he had left out earlier, the one Steve was asking about. "Because I trust you more than I trust myself," he finished. Steve's throat felt like it was completely closed up, so he leaned towards him and kissed him again. Gently, slowly, lazily. Bucky returned the kiss and then looked at him when he pulled away. He knew that he wouldn't stop asking. 

"And why Tony? Did he tell you he wouldn't do it otherwise?" Bucky sighed and shook his head.

"It was my idea," he took a moment to pick his words carefully. "If HYDRA's coding is still inside me, if they get to me one day, I'll need to be stopped. Maybe permanently… and I didn't want you to have to make that decision if someone else could do it."

Steve's eyes were brighter than usual. He didn't even want to imagine something like that. Thinking about it made his heart ache with the possibility. Bucky smiled, and it felt out of place for a second. "That's probably the only thing I wouldn't trust you to do," he added, and Steve thought about it for a second. He was damn right. 

"So let me get this right," he said, while turning himself on his stomach, prompted on his elbows. He was trying very hard to keep everything light and easy. "If you get captured, I'll have to fight _you,_ then _HYDRA_ , and then _Tony?_ " Bucky laughed. Like _that_ would ever happen. 

"You don't need to worry about it right now," he said while reaching for him, taking his hand and turning away, guiding Steve to lay back down and hug him from the back. He did. "We're both here now," he added in a whisper. As Steve hugged him tight, with his chest pressed to his back, he thought that this had to be the safest he had felt in his entire life. 

He fell asleep in minutes, with the shadow of a smile still on his lips, and finally went through an entire night with not one nightmare to haunt him. There wasn't one bad thought that Steve's arms around him couldn't simply chase away. He was finally… home. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thank you for reading! Hope you enjoyed it! Let me know what you think, comments absolutely make my day, so please feel free to give me your opinion (even if you didn't like my work, that's the best way to improve) :)


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